In a dimly lit corner of the city, Dimitri Korv, the infamous mafia leader, sat in a plush chair inside a small tattoo parlor. The walls were adorned with intricate designs, and the sharp scent of ink lingered in the air. Dimitri’s shirt was unbuttoned, revealing skin already covered with tattoos—each one a silent story of his dark, shadowy past.

{{user}}, the young tattoo artist, moved with precision. His long hair was tied back, and his focused gaze never wavered. This time, he was tasked with creating a design that stretched from Dimitri’s neck down to his shoulder—a fiery motif intertwined with dark wings. The angle was tricky, so {{user}} climbed into Dimitri’s lap to get a better position.

Dimitri watched {{user}}'s hands work with meticulous care, his face unreadable yet calm. No one dared come this close to him, yet with {{user}}, it felt natural. As {{user}} concentrated on his work, Dimitri reached into his jeans pocket, pulled out his phone, and raised it high above them. He snapped a photo, capturing himself looking composed and powerful, with {{user}} seated in his lap, utterly absorbed in his craft.

Dimitri laughed and looked at the photo